Let You Go
by LtTanyaBoone
Summary: "He would always worry about her, no matter how often she told him she was fine, no matter how often she told him to stop; that jealousy did not suit him." Oneshot.


_Title:_ Let You Go  
><em>Disclaimers:<em> NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this. "Let You Go" is a song belonging to Ashley Parker Angel.  
><em>AN:_ English is not my native language. So please forgive me my grammar and spelling mistakes.  
><em>Spoilers: <em>S4 opener Shalom, especially the pictures of Tony visiting Ziva's place; takes place during S6  
><em>Pairing:<em> Tiva, Tony's POV  
><em>Summary:<em> "It was not just amazing sex. He would always worry about her, no matter how often she told him she was fine, no matter how often she told him to stop, that jealousy did not suit him."

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><p><em>Here I am again<em>_  
>With nothing left inside<br>No I don't wanna, but I gotta  
>Let you go<em>

_~ Ashley Parker Angel 'Let You Go'_

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><p>There had been a time when he had thought it could actually work between them. He had fallen for Kate, in the beginning, before they became friends and the feelings became more brotherly than romantic. With her, that had been different from the first time he had seen her. She had been pure desire, exotic beauty that she was. Her accent intrigued him, and he made a plan to sleep with her. Then she had told them she was <em>his<em> control officer, and he had been taken aback. But not enough to completely quench his desire for her. She was gorgeous, had a great physique, very athletic. The swimsuit looked perfect on her, and he longed to run his hand through her hair, trace the trail the water droplets took on her wet skin... But Gibbs had killed Ari, and she had flown back to Tel Aviv. Only to return a few months later, taking Kate's old desk and her part on the team, becoming his partner. There had been Rule 12, but he did not really care for that. He wanted to give her some time to adjust, and they were placed under cover and finally, finally he got the chance to see her almost naked and have sex with her. Though it was just pretending, he did not mind, he was with her, and he got to run his hand through her beautiful curls, learnt that she had a tat on the inside of her thigh, though she had turned away when she had caught him looking at it. He had not asked, not when they were under cover, because that would have been inappropriate with the others listening in. Plus, she was a private person and apparently did not want to talk about that particular thing. So he had let it slide.

It had started the night Gibbs had been blown up. She had come to check up on him because he _"had not been himself"_. They had a few drinks, and then his lips were on hers, and before he could fear that she would now castrate him, he felt her responding to the kiss more fiercely. They barely made it to the bedroom that night, and the scratches on his back did not allow him to sleep on his back for a week because they burned like hell. She wore a scarf or turtleneck for a few days to hide the bite mark he had left where her neck met her shoulder.

The boss retired and he became team leader, and she told him that this could not continue. He agreed and they promised to stay friends, partners. Which they did. Friends. With the occasional benefits. Okay, regular benefits. He'd come by her house, they would cook, watch a movie, start to make out, and sometimes end up in the bedroom. When they went to his apartment, they usually ordered take out and had a few drinks with the movie, but the result was the same. It was the best summer of his life. He made a promise to himself, he would not screw this up or screw her over. He wanted this to work, being with her was the best thing that had ever happened to him. It was not just amazing sex. It was the sound of her laughter and how it made his heart speed up, it was the teasing tone in her voice and the goose bumps it created on his skin. It was the sparkle in her eyes and the fuzzy feeling that settled over him. If he had to guess, he actually thought he was in love. For the first time, and it frightened him how intense the feeling was.

And then Jenny had to ruin it all by handing him another cell phone, by making him play the boyfriend for Jeanne Benoit. And before he knew it, he enjoyed her kisses, and the feelings grew, though they never got as intense as with her. He did not want to hurt her by answering her call and her noticing that there was another woman with him. Not because he feared what she would do to that woman, no. It wasn't like her to take her anger out on someone who did not know. No, she would take it out on him, and really castrate him. But he did not think that would be that bad. Because she would understand if he told her it was for the job, that he was under orders. And he knew that it would break her, that knowing he had to do this against their will would crush her. And she would end it, whatever IT was, whatever people wanted to call this... thing between them. But she noticed the changes in him, and they started to fight. He was banned from her apartment, and she did not return his calls any more, either. And then it blew up in their faces.

He had wanted to cry when he saw his car explode. Not because of the stupid thing, though he had liked it. In the end, when it came down to it, it was just a heap of metal and electronics and rubber and cloth. But he had wanted to cry because of what Ziva must feel like, because he could imagine the pain if he had thought she had been inside that exploding box of metal. Because he was not sure how much she could take and remain whole. It was then that he first noticed that this was more than merely an affair to him, that he cared about her more than he would for another fuckbuddy.

They had never really talked about it. The mission that had destroyed everything between them was never discussed. She told him she understood and that it was Jen's fault, but he was still not invited to stay the night. And she declined his invitations. He heard the unspoken words loud and clear. It may have been Jen who had ordered him, but the fact remained that _he_ had lied to her, and she could not trust him, not after the stunts he had pulled. And knowing that he had lost the trust he was used to, that his partner did not think he would have her back; that knowledge cut deeper than anything else she may have been able to say to him.

They got their partnership back. Slowly, gradually they became one again. And the door to her bedroom opened, but the one to her heart remained locked. There were no feelings between them; he knew it was just sex for her, even though he wanted to make love every time. Until the secrets started up again, until Jenny started to behave strangely, and Gibbs broke up with Mann, and then she was clinging to him, sobbing into his chest and begged him to hold her and never let her go, ever. And he had promised. He had promised to keep her close, to tell her when something was up, he had held her for hours and simply let her cry and stroked her back and curls gently, almost like one would comfort a child. He had never seen her like this, ever, and it scared him, scared him so much that he didn't know what to do and was forced to find something else than jokes and shallow words to calm her down. He was not sure, but in hindsight, he thought she had known about Jenny's illness. Her persistence to check up on her, the fact that she took her death in stride... Okay, that was not that strange, but they had been close friends, and even though she would not show her emotions in front of the team, she had cried when alone with him, when she had told him who Ari was, and what the tattoo meant to her. No, she had known. And somehow, the woman that was responsible for their first attempt at building something to fail brought them together, if only for a few hours.

With Jen's death came their punishments. They were separated, and when he came back, she had changed. They had sex a few times, but something was missing. She was keeping secrets, and then, one night, she ended things. Just like that. Told him this could not go on. That she had to confess that she had met someone, and that she was trying to build something with him. He had asked her why, why she was throwing what they had had away. And her words had felt worse than being electrocuted, worse than the time his father had belted him for cutting his suit into a Halloween costume. She told him that he would never change, that for him, it was about sex with a good looking woman. But she wanted something more; she wanted to have a relationship, to have something that would last, maybe even start a family. And no matter what he would say right now, he was not ready for that. He would probably never be. And she was tired of waiting for him to decide that this thing between them was serious enough to put a name to it, to make it public. And he did not know how to tell her that she had never been so wrong in her entire life.

He had wanted to offer her everything. He had a ring tucked away in his bottom desk drawer, and just waited for the perfect chance to ask her. But that moment had never come. And now, everything he would have said would have sounded like a cheap way to keep her. She would not believe him if he told her that he had dinner reservations for them to meet his father. That he had actually visited Gibbs' basement three times, each time trying to bring up that he wanted to ask his partner to marry him, but never found the right words. She would have just told him that his hesitation, his inability to say the things out loud were proof of him not wanting to make this something permanent. She was very good at turning things around and bending the truth to fit her view. And he knew that he would not be able to fight her on her view, because deep down, part of him already believed it.

He found the picture. He saw the man with the bright smile and the happiness in his eyes. He saw her face light up when he called, her eyes shining with laughter like they had when they had been together before. Jealousy was not a green-eyed monster. It was a white hot feeling settling deep in his stomach, waiting to rear its ugly head.

He could remember the first night they had not had comfort sex, but made love. The way she had felt around him, same and different all of a sudden, the sounds she made, the small and loud noises. How beautiful she was under him, above him, how great she felt. How soft and smooth her skin was, the way her lips tasted... He could remember every tiny detail of their time together, even the one time she had stared at him when she had thought he was sleeping. It had to count for something, it counted for him. It meant so much to him that he would have given everything he could to have it back, to get back to the way they had been before Jenny's desperate pursuit of revenge.

But now she had someone else. She was not his anymore; he had lost the right to ask her where she had been the night, why she was looking tired, what she had done in Tel Aviv. Never mind he had not actually wanted to ask "what" but rather "who". He hated that his jealousy was shining through, but he could not help it. He had tried to tame the monster, to cage it, but it wanted out, and he was tired of pretending that this did not matter at all. She was his partner, and he worried about her. He would always worry about her, no matter how often she told him she was fine, no matter how often she told him to stop, that jealousy did not suit him. No matter how often she reminded him that it was over between them. Because to him, she was his very first love, the first woman he had cared so deeply for that he was willing to change his life and ways around if that meant they got a second chance. He had never really believed in second chances, and with his luck, he would need a third and fourth one someday. But he wanted to give them another shot, if she was willing to take him back. But apparently, she was not.

So he would let her go, for now. Would let her chase freedom with another man, even though what he knew about the bloke rubbed him up the wrong way. He would let her have her way. And patiently wait in the shadows if she needed a friendly shoulder to cry on. If Mister Perfect turned out to be such an ass like he had been with Jeanne. He would wait, and be there if she needed him. Because that's what partners were for, right? No harm if he was hoping she would come back to him.

_THE END_

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><p><em>Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated.<em>


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